


Nocturnal Love

by skyrimlady



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Biting, But this time it's another Altmer :), Dirty Thoughts, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Interspecies Sex, Mutual Pining, Oh she's also a damn good thief, POV, Pining, Poor Ondolemar doesn't know what to do, Resolved Sexual Tension, Seduction, Sexual Tension, She really is a seductress guys, Slow Burn, Sooo here I am again, Teasing, Vampires, kinda OOC, like holy shit, sorta?, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-06-29 22:04:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15738225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyrimlady/pseuds/skyrimlady
Summary: Ondolemar has seen Anniva around for a while. He's heard the rumors, the stories, and even unknowingly watch her in action.But what he doesn't realize is his own growing obsession with this mysterious, utterly irritating beauty, nor her borderline ridiculous attraction to him.





	1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, it's ya girl again  
> I'm writing this because I feel like our favorite superiorly bred Mer doesn't get enough love and attention, so Anniva is gonna give him p l e n t y ;)  
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this smutty fic. If you do, leave a kudo or a comment! Really appreciate both! <3

Ondolemar’s POV

The first time he saw her was nearly a year ago.

Ondolemar stood with goblet in hand at nearly the center of the Thalmor Embassy's foyer, where a gaggle of about 12 nobles and Jarls came together for the illusion of a fun time. Elenwen certainly knew how to throw a party- she always had the finest wine and the best food money can buy, but the company she kept could be utterly exhausting during his thankfully rare conversations with them. A lute's strings were plucked and more banter jumbled in his mind like excited bunnies. He regally sighed to himself, swirling the Calovian Brandy in his cup to sate the boredom creeping up on him.

"Ondolemar?" Elenwen's shrill voice cut through his thoughts. "Is everything alright? You seem distracted." 

He mentally slapped himself for being so lost in thought and gave a curt nod. "Forgive me, ma'am. I was just thinking that your party is, as always, splendid," he surprised himself with lying so easily to his greater, but her arrogant smile was all he needed to know that her ego was placated. Then he heard the front doors open, the winter air gaining entry for only a moment before the door was closed. Elenwen quickly glided over to greet the new guest. The Bosmer bartender, Malborn had interrupted her greeting and she quickly but politely dismissed the newcomer. 

Ondolemar was never one to stare, especially when it came to humans, but this time was an exception. A woman in bejeweled clothing sashayed into the soft candlelight, determination and confidence radiating off of her like a perfume. Her dress had a slight train, broadcasting shades of crimson and deep purple, and on her feet were boots made of the finest leather- it was obvious this woman was wealthy, even amongst Jarls and emissaries. Her every step was careful and precise, like she was tiptoeing around a sleeping babe’s crib. Her hair was silky and black as the Void, cascading down her shoulders like a raven waterfall and ending at a modestly clothed but plenteous chest that bounced ever so slightly with each stride. Her heart-shaped face broadcasted a passive but friendly expression to her fellow partygoers.

And by Auriel, her eyes practically- no. They _were_ glowing- quite brilliantly even in the brightness of the room. They put the most dazzling sunset to shame- bright amber outlined by the deepest crimson studied their surroundings carefully, taking in every detail of the tapestry before allowing her gaze to fall on who attended this get together. Then they landed on him, where they lingered for a minute. Those scarlet lips- contrasting starkly with her almost luminescent skin- gave him a candid smile, showing off pristine teeth. He felt his heart do annoying backflips- it was feline, predatory even. He could almost say it was kittenish, but he brushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came. 

The Justiciar took a sip of his drink, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable at this beautiful stranger's presence. He tried to quell his roiling stomach by treading to the bench farthest into the shadows. From there, he had an almost unobstructed view of the party. He watched the mystery woman closely as she grabbed her own drink and almost immediately started getting recognized by those around her- Siddgeir gave her a very unorthodox smile complete with a nod, Idgrod went the extra mile to hug the girl, even the ever boasting Erikur seemed to have a rare kind moment with her around. 

Ondolemar took another gulp, the alcohol pooling in his stomach. He didn't even know her name, but his gut screamed at him in warning- this woman was deadly. He had ignored the caution his body told him to take- she was a party guest. How dangerous could a damsel be? 

It wasn't until he saw her parading around Understone Keep in Markarth that he realized his gut feeling was right. At that point, he had known what she did at the party: her name was Anniva, as the records said, and she was a spy- she infiltrated the Embassy right under their noses. If he had any doubts about her being deadly, they vanished when he heard the body count in the Embassy courtyard. 

Then there was talk among the Justiciars of her being the Dragonborn of legend, that she could make the very skies combust in a storm and conjure a dragon straight from Oblivion with her voice alone. Not to mention she had strong ties to the Thieves Guild, and some all the way in Solstheim. Unsurprisingly, he found out she was an immensely powerful vampire in good with one of the oldest clans in the world. She was rumored to also be the Thane of and have property in nearly every Hold in Skyrim and the Listener of the Black Hand. If that wasn't enough, it was also reported that she had consorted with and became the champion of every Daedric Lord or Prince out there. Of course, Ondolemar thought this all hogwash. She was a human woman- surely she didn't have that much power. 

Nights in bed became increasingly sleepless for the Altmer.


	2. A Run-In with Danger

Anniva's POV

She knew she had caught his attention, in more ways than one- Ondolemar had to be the most ostentatious and easiest-to-read mer in all of Tamriel. The very thought made her giggle under her breath as she climbed the stairs to Vlindrel Hall. The cool night breeze shifted her long hair, midnight strands tickling her pale cheeks as she fumbled for the key to her new home. She'd had her eye on him for the past year or so- ever since she saw him at Elenwen's reception, something about him just called to her.

Perhaps it was his blood. She could hear it coursing through his veins, that powerful, beating heart pumping his delicious essence throughout his statuesque build. His pheromones weren't anything to pass up either- freshly washed leather and a hint of wine, the kind served at the party no less. She often fantasized about how his blood tasted- was it sweet, like honey fresh out of a hive? Or savory and divine like the great feast of Sovngarde? Perhaps it was his aura of supremacy and overwhelming gusto she picked up. It had a tartness to it, too concentrated for mortal noses to sniff.

She remembered the first time they exchanged words- it was when she arrived in Markarth, looking for work in the midst of a rather boring time period in her life. She had just killed Lord Harkon with the prized bow of Auriel Himself, and she found herself suddenly wanting to explore west, far from Whiterun and Falkreath and into the ruins of the Dwarven people from a time long since passed. Upon entering the city, she had quite literally stabbed a Forsworn spy in the back before he could inch a millimeter closer to the innocent Imperial woman buying a necklace, and the guards did little more than blink and try to calm the townsfolk down.

After that little skirmish, Anniva then perused the ancient city, admiring the golden doorways and stone buildings with no hidden level of awe and respect for the architecture and sheer creativity no doubt needed to make such a spectacular spectacle. It wasn't until she set foot in the critically acclaimed Understone Keep could she say she had seen it all- huge Dwarven decorations and even more stone paved the way to the Mournful Throne, where the Jarl sat proudly with his steward and housecarl.

It was also where Ondolemar paraded the hall just shy of the stairs tirelessly, with his fellow elven guards at his heels much like the dogs that were housed with the castle's cooks. He was set and focused on one task- to stop any and all Talos worship. Anniva was by no means orthodox, but at the end of the day, she was still a Nord, and the customs of her people were as important to her as blood.

But that didn't mean she couldn't admire his drive and nicely shaped assets, not to mention his voice was like the smoothest velvet, even when he talked down on the other races-humans mostly- like they were as attractive as the scum on his boots. She had approached him anyway out of curiosity to his intentions, though they were already obvious. Before she could utter a single word, he regarded her with a disdain and condescension she hadn't seen since Helgen.

"You have the honor of addressing the Thalmor- bask in it," his pious tone reached her sensitive ears. He positively towered over her, standing a good two heads above average. She wasn't one to back from a challenge, however, and she just smiled.

She had executed an exaggerated bow, her hair nearly brushing the stone beneath her feet. She bit back a chuckle at hearing his vocalized snarl. "Oh what a pleasure it is to meet a real Justiciar!" She rose, clasping her hands together in a faux display of nervousness. "But wait a second," she raised a finger to tap her chin. "We've met before, haven't we, Commander?"

Loud and raucous laughter was lifted through the wind, and it pulled her out of the memory. Her eyes found the soft glow coming from the Silver-Blood Inn, and she let herself sigh.

'Perhaps I'll pay them a visit. I am feeling a bit peckish,' she thought morbidly before inserting the key into the lock and pushing into her grand foyer. The long stretch of stone hallway added a sense of warm welcome to all who entered. She continued up the way into a living room where to her right she saw a huge statue of a man with hair the color of fresh straw sitting at the modest fire, book in hand. He looked up when he somehow heard her mouse-like footsteps and smiled, setting the novel down before rising.

He marched over, standing at least a foot taller than her. "Honored to meet you, my Thane. I'm Argis, your housecarl," he was very polite and reserved as far as housecarls go. She smiled back, gracing him with her hand to shake.

"Please- call me Anniva. Titles are of no importance to me," he accepted her hand with a strong grip. After formally meeting each other, Anniva took the time to familiarize herself with her new home, more than pleased to note that her bed was not in fact made of stone. She paid extra for the alchemy and enchanting stations connected to the kitchen, adding her own personal touch to an otherwise common-looking abode. After setting down her pack in her bedroom, Anniva peeled off her dragon scale armor and boots in exchange for a modest dark dress and soft shoes. Set for a night on the town, she made her way outside once more, descending the stairs before walking through the now empty market and pushing into the welcoming tavern.

The bar was nearly empty save for a few vagabonds or drunkards too off their rockers to even stumble home. She was met with Kleppr's familiar greeting. "Ah, our most favored guest has returned! Come on in- we've got plenty of strong drink for a traveler such as yourself."

"Are you actually going to serve her drinks this time, Kleppr? Or are you 'too busy' as always?" Frabbi's snarky retort rang off the walls. Anniva watched amused as the husband's face cringed obviously before he turned to her with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Of course not, dear wife of mine. Everyone would be so much better off seeing your pretty face before being dragged into a drunken stupor," the vampire caught Frabbi's eye-roll and giggled before a sweaty, muscled arm was roughly slung around her shoulder by a very inebriated Cosnach, who then cackled at her slightly taken off guard expression.

"Awww did I scare the big bad Thane of Markarth? Ooopsie," his breath positively reeked of mead. It was a miracle he could even stand for work in the mornings, much less keep his job at Arnlief and Sons. She had heard Lisbet complain before about him showing up hungover to the point of blindness, which had the vampire rolling. To add icing to the cake, his words were so slurred, it would take someone who didn't know his lingo decades-perhaps millennia- to decipher it.

"Watch yourself, Cos," came Vorstag's warning from across the room. "Don't let that beautiful face fool ya- she'd have a knife to your throat before you could even blink if you pissed her off- which I _really_ wouldn't do if I were you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever- I'm goin to bed," Cosnach grumbled before he released her shoulders and all but crawled to his room, nearly smacking his face off the wall. Anniva watched him disappear down the hallway and decided not to visit him in his sleep- his blood would no doubt be sour with alcohol, making for an altogether unpleasant meal. Although she might not have a choice if her roiling stomach had anything to say about it. Her fiery eyes scanned the tavern as she made her way to the bar, setting herself down on a stool where she rested her chin on her fist, the other hand rapping their fingers against the wood.

"Frabbi! Our customer needs a drink!" Kleppr's indignant observation came as more of a childish complaint. A sound of frustration came from the tired wife.

"You're a foot away from her, you balding ass! Can't you do anything on your own?" She set her jaw before stiffly walking over to the seated vampire, a hand on her hip with an impatient twang to her tone. "You want a drink?"

Anniva regarded the exasperated woman, her scent of olives and juniper making her stomach clench. Her eyes glowed with an alluring intensity as she smiled. "Oh I think I'm alright, but my dear Frabbi you look positively exhausted! You haven't had much sleep, have you?"

That brought about a snicker. "Understatement of the bleedin' Era," she paused then and gave the vampire a weird look. "But what does my sleep schedule have to do with what's on the menu?" Anniva waited a beat for Kleppr to be out of earshot and stood, looking straight into the barmaids chocolate orbs with a comforting smile, though her eyes were alive with hunger.

"I was only curious- and a bit concerned. You want to sleep, don't you? For days on end, no interruptions or worries at all. No one would blame you, what with the problems that plague your life- an incompetent husband, noisy customers, useless children. The bags under your eyes won't go away, your energy levels are low. When does it get fixed quicker than in dreamland?" Anniva smiled wickedly when Frabbi's eyes glazed over, completely hypnotized by the vampire's spell.

"Uh...yes- I think I'll go to sleep now," in an almost hypnotic state, the barmaid slowly padded to her room, disappearing into the linens and animal furs of her bed just as Kleppr returned with a broom in hand. Casting an innocent smile at him, as quiet as a sewer mouse, Anniva walked into the master room, delighted to see Frabbi fast asleep with her eyes tightly shut. Anniva's fangs lengthened and sharpened at the sight of vulnerability as she stalked towards her sleeping figure. Now standing over the bed, the vampire's eyes shimmered maliciously in the dim light of the room and without a second thought, sunk her chaspins into the soft flesh of the woman's jugular and drank her fill, the euphoric sensation of power coursing through her dysfunctional veins as blood coated her tongue.

Anniva's hunger now satiated for the time being, she retracted her fangs and stood, wiping any excess blood from her lips before heading towards the door, where her neck hairs suddenly stood on end. She could feel it- another presence, a healthy heart beating in a neverending song. A flare of her nostrils and a wry smile later, a scent was picked up. 

Rich leather and brandy.


	3. An Unusual Meeting

Ondolemar's POV

He needed something-anything- to get that annoying skald Ogmund thrown in jail. He knew for a fact the Nord worshipped a false god, but without tangible evidence he felt almost as defenseless as a newborn, which hurt his pride to no end. He'd sooner die befote he let anyone take a jab at him and walk away unscathed. 

But that didn't mean he had to enjoy walking around this Falmer hive of a city looking for someone to do his bidding- not that the people had any choice in the matter. That is, if they wished to keep their freedom or more importantly, their heads. He stopped a few feet away from the inn where the old bard often entertained its many guests. With a proud sniff, he pushed into the building. 

To his chagrin the bar was empty save for the doofus bartender who swept the floor absently and a mercenary cleaning his war axe with a dampened cloth. He sauntered over to the barman and crossed his arms, speaking with established authority. "I believe you and I need to have a talk, barkeep." 

The man jumped out of his skin and whipped around, the broom clattering to the ground as he stared wide-eyed at the mer before him. "I-uh, I'm sorry what?" 

Ondolemar rolled his eyes. "The stories of you and your idiocy do you no justice," his hands moved behind his back, where they clasped together and straightened his back, adding to his already Centurian-like height. "The skald that performs here- he worships Talos, and I must take him aside for questioning. Tell me- where is he?" 

The barman's fear melted into irritation- this elf really had some gall, parading into his bar with the intention of taking away one of his customers. "I'm afraid I have no idea where he lives- if he even lives nearby," he bravely met Ondolemar's gaze, unknowing of just whom he was speaking with. The mercenary by the fire, however, knew the Thalmor-though they were self-righteous, glorified bastards-were a dangerous group to not be coddled with. Sheathing his axe, he quickly but quietly excused himself to his prepaid room next to Cosnach's and shut the door. Better safe than sorry, was his motto. 

Ondolemar frowned down at the pitiful man, taking a threatening step forward. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, cretin. You can either tell me where this heretic is housed, or I take you in along with him," before the smaller man could say another word, soft but powerful footsteps came from their left. 

"Kleppr is everything alr-" A figure appeared from the shadows and halted upon seeing the two, no doubt feeling the tension thick as fog filling the room. Ondolemar's gaze tore itself from the pitiful man and landed on the woman he thought he never wanted to see again- Anniva. Instantly his expression softened from irritation to awe- her modestly common attire and presence within this craggy place threw him off guard. Wasn't she an esteemed noblewoman? She should be wearing gold and silver every day embedded with the finest jewels the world could offer. 

She should also be beneath him, sweating and panting his name like a mantra as he laced into her, leaving her vulnerable and writhing as he knows she is unaccustomed to. 

Ondolemar wanted to slap himself as a newfound sense of shame filled him. She was as inferior as the rest of them, he reminded himself- no matter how many transformations she goes through, she's still human. But when her amber gaze found his and she smiled that enticing smirk, he could feel the kindling ignite into a small flame in his abdomen. She sashayed over, arms crossed under her bust as her coquettish voice rang through his ears again. 

"My my- fancy meeting you here, Commander," she purred, the words dripping from her tongue like sweetened nectar. "Do forgive my surprise, but I thought the Thalmor were above Skyrim's taverns and guilty pleasures?" It wasn't lost on the elf her ever so subtle enunciation of guilty pleasures, if the ever growing smirk was anything to go by. 

Both men looked dumbfounded beyond reason, but it was Kleppr who broke the silence. "You...know this Justiciar, Anniva?" 

She nodded curtly. "We've met a few times- exchanged little words, unfortunately enough. I do so love hearing his stories and how he boasts to his superior breeding," she caught the flash of anger across the Justiciar's features but kept her gaze on the barkeep. "Why don't you join Frabbi in slumber, Kleppr? You both need shut-eye," he cast an unsure glance the Thalmor's way before departing quickly into his and his wife's room, leaving the two completely to their devices. 

Ondolemar crossed his arms, looking down his nose at the woman who had been on his mind more than once recently. "I ought to take you away for interfering with Thalmor business, vampire," he was sure to sneer the words as if they were a disgusting liquid he had ingested. She merely graced a sly grin at his forward distaste, her near ridiculous courage something to be aspired to. 

"Ah so that saber cat's been let out of the bag, hm?" The infernal woman giggled like a little girl before regarding the elf with a shimmer in her eye. "I suppose it matters not. In addition, while that would be interesting for us both, it wouldn't help you in the slightest to clasp me in irons and drag me to a jail cell," she took a daring step forward, leaning her upper body across the bar and resting her chin in her palm, those thick eyelashes blinking seductively slow. "Unless there's a little something extra in it for you Commander?"

His snarl increased tenfold, but his annoying heart did a little flip. "You'd watch your tongue if you know what's good for you. Furthermore what help could you possibly give that would be worth my time?" 

She sighed then like it was the hardest labor to explain herself before standing straight once more. "I overheard your sniveling about the bard- what's his name, Ogmund? I know exactly where he lives," she shrugged like a disappointed parent before moving as if to leave the tavern. The elf barely felt her pinky brush against his, and electricity shot up his arm and through his system- oh she was going to be the death of him. "But seeing as you don't require the help of a mere human such as mysel-" 

"Hold it," Ondolemar's voice cut through the air and to his surprise she halted midstep, turning her head to show she was listening. "You would sell out one of your own kin? For nothing else than to sell them out?" A twisted feeling of respect for her rose to the surface- she's certainly not your traditional Nord woman, that's for damned sure. 

Anniva chuckled and turned completely, hand finding its home on her hip. "Now that you mention it, I'm tempted to reconsider- it's rather amusing watching you pace back and forth through the Keep, trying to formulate a plan in the midst of all this chaos. Nice view, too," a hand reached up to tap her chin thoughtfully. "Elenwen isn't exactly patient, is she?" Her fangs caught a plump lower lip at his barely noticeable change in expression, from rigidity to acknowledgment to the fact. "And what kind of heroine would I be if I just let you face her wrath with nothing to at least sate her?"

For the first time in his life, Ondolemar was rendered speechless. This Anniva- a human woman, just read him like a novel, and he wasn't sure if he should feel terrified out of his wits or contemplate why that only made his stomach coil and clench in a way that was definitely not supper talking. He never uttered a word, even as Anniva sauntered over, and folded her hands behind her back and craned her neck to meet his gaze. 

He couldn't move, couldn't breathe- and he was sure he never needed to again. He found himself gazing into her eyes, like walking straight into a sunset peeking over the mountain's horizon. If he looked even closer, he could see tiny specks of blood red swimming in the amber. If that wasn't enough, the now positively sultry smirk she gave him placed the cherry on top. 

"Don't worry your superior hide about anything, Commander," her voice had become a low growl, almost reverberating off the walls of his soul. "That amulet is as good as yours," Ondolemar-loathed as he was to admit it-found himself saddened yet elated to see her leave as strands of raven, translucent skin, and a fruitful backside disappeared out the door.


	4. A Simple Favor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little shorter, I know  
> But the smut is coming, I promise ;)

Anniva's POV

If she still had a heartbeat, she's almost certain it would be rabbiting within her ribcage as her feet took her up a long set of stairs. She was in her mind's element as crickets chirped and a stray bird flew overhead- she's enthusiastically doing a favor for the same group who wanted her very much dead and buried in Skyrim's frozen earth. In addition, over the course of the 2 months she's been in Markarth doing the Jarl's work, Ondolemar always seemed to creep into her mind, paired with thoughts that would make even Sanguine blush red as the fires of Oblivion. 

She would be the first to admit she could put on a face of indifference when the time called for it, but she quickly found that around him, she just let loose- though that was probably the stupidest thing she had ever done, even before she turned. She was so invested in her thoughts that she didn't even notice her arrival at Ogmund's bronze door, the candle lights' reflection dancing off the metal.

'Alright- enough of this pointless pondering. I have a job to do,' with just a quick glance around her, she made sure no guards were around and produced a simple lockpick from her pocket. Nimble hands picked the mechanism before the door swung open with a click. Her arm hairs stood on end with the thrill of thievery before she tiptoed across the way, paying extra close attention to the slumbering bard not five feet away from her. A chest at the farthest end of the modest house caught her attention. Crouching down in front of the container, she expertly picked the lock once more, grimacing as a particularly atrocious snore came from Ogmund as he shifted in bed. 

A soft click from the chest made the top pop open, revealing the honor and pride of nearly every Nord hanging from a golden chain- Talos' amulet. She reached in and her fingers barely brushed the metal when a low groan resounded from her right. She had gone completely still, only peeking out from the corner of her eye to see Ogmund had awakened and was sitting upright, his mop of snowy hair the epitome of an unkempt nightmare. With a groan he got to his feet, aged bones popping and cracking as he made his way to his cooking pot to make some breakfast. 

Anniva's senses heightened as her hand wrapped itself around the loose chain of the amulet and quickly hid it away in her pocket. Silent as a skeever she crept her way past the unknowing old man, somersaulting into the shadows just as he turned around for a bottle of milk. Before she knew it, she was outside just as the first rays of dawn were peeking over the mountain ranges. A ray landed on the crown of her head, and she hissed when it sizzled, leaving behind a subtle but curable burn. Thinking fast, she hoisted a dark hood over her head before turning right as if to go to the Keep. 

She paused, but only for a moment before a groan escaped her lips. The pompous mer had to be in bed right about now. It didn't matter if one was the most underdeveloped amoeba or most thoroughly bred organism on Nirn- man nor mer could survive very long without some kind of sleep. Lips pursed with a knowing smirk, she merely shook her head and swayed up to her manor, feeling the weighty jangle of the amulet like it was an anchor to sanity.


	5. Honeyed Dreams

Ondolemar's POV

Ondolemar awoke to darkness engulfing him whole. The faint pitter-patter of water spurred him to his feet rather quickly- he was in a cave. His scrupulous golden stare criticised his surroundings- the cavern by itself was rather fetching. The walls were smooth and almost glowing with an engraved, iridescent light from a forgotten time. An underground river trickled down the way to his left, Silverite fish and other strangely attractive aquatic life swam with the currents or took up residence on the small rocks. The floor beneath him had a stone path, leading into a bigger space where he could barely make out the faint glow of candlelight. Proceeding with extreme caution, fingers grazing the elven dagger strapped to his hip, his feet led him deeper into the cave. What he saw will forever leave him completely stupefied.

In the huge expanse of space, there were about five waterfalls including one to his left cascading from huge holes in the walls. The water was crystal clear and blue as the oceans of the Sumersets, reflecting the roof of the cavern beautifully. The pool surrounded one huge island connected only by a natural landbridge, where deathbell and lavender led the way to a figure merely a silhouette in the darkness. They turned just as Ondolemar took another step, and everything in his world halted. 

Anniva stood with impeccable posture at the center, smiling that vexing grin as if she were expecting him. Those burning, entrancing eyes gleamed brilliantly in the dimness. To her shape a midnight black slip clung, the fabric accentuating the ampleness of her chest and fullness of her hips. A purple scarf decorating her strong, slender arms glittered so in the light of a single candle resting on a table next to her. Those waves of pure black encased her striking, almost ethereal beauty in exacting detail, from the soft plump of her blood red lips to her glowing, creamy skin. Her feet were bare to the earthy texture of the island.

She uttered not a word, but that smile did not falter as a red tipped finger beckoned him closer. His eyes never left her as his feet nearly ran to her until he was standing toe to toe with the vampire. His heartbeat was frantic, but he somehow kept his breathing aligned as he looked into her all-consuming, shimmering irises that seemed to eat him whole. He reached a hand up on impulse to cup her soft cheek, and she leaned into his touch with a contented hum, which turned into a sigh of pure bliss when lips savory as sweetrolls connected with hers.

The kiss quickly became frantic and passionate, as if both parties needed it more than blood or air. Teeth fanged and blunt alike clashed together with fervor as Anniva pressed herself flush against Ondolemar's rigid frame, where the telltale evidence of his arousal greeted her. His hands groped whatever they could find- clothes, flesh, hair- it didn't matter what he touched as long as it was hers. He needed her, all of her. He felt her dextrous fingers move south, where they palmed him through his trousers. Somewhere in the distance, he heard himself groan like a prepubescent and suddenly, a ripple tore through him and he felt an imbedding warmth consume him before he jolted awake- this time in his room at the Keep. 

The elf was slick with sweat, the animal hides that once covered him now laying in a pile next to his poor excuse for a bed. He laid naked save for his loincloth, which clung to his inner thigh. Gingerly he dragged his hands across his abdomen in the dark and sure enough, a sticky substance coated his fingers and smeared across his skin. He had just climaxed- to a dream, no less. He didn't know if it was possible to feel any more degraded or desperate- but one thing was for certain as he cleaned himself up with a wet cloth. 

That temptress Anniva would be his- and not a one could stop him from claiming his prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but smutty wet dream  
> A little teaser on what to expect in the next and final chapter ;)


End file.
